


States of Unions

by helsinkibaby



Series: Dark Horses [6]
Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M, Het, Love Triangles, Romance, trigger warning: mentions of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-30
Updated: 2002-08-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Josh had saved him from his life in New York, when he was doing things he didn't want to do, arguing for things he didn't believe in. Had given him a reason to leave the room, to leave the doubt and the uncertainty behind. Who was going to do that now?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	States of Unions

**Author's Note:**

> Post-ep to 100,000 Airplanes

  
He was alone in his office, staring at the words on the computer screen, the words he had worked for hours on, the words he had gone back and revisited, the words he had continued working on, even after he'd known that they wouldn't be included in the speech. He read them over to himself again now. "Over the past half century, we've split the atom, we've spliced the gene and we've roamed Tranquillity Base. We've reached for the stars and never have we been closer to having them in our grasp. New science, new technology is making the difference between life and death, and so we need a national commitment equal to this unparalleled moment of possibility. And so I announce to you tonight that I will bring the full resources of the Federal Government and the full reach of my office to this fundamental goal: We will cure cancer by the end of this decade." His hand was on his chin, his brow furrowed thoughtfully, and with nary a sigh, he pressed the delete button.

The words vanished and a blank page stared out at him from the screen, the same kind of blank page that he'd been faced with all those weeks ago when they first started writing the State of the Union. When they were so sure that they were absolutely nowhere. The same kind of page that had stared up at them countless times over the past few weeks, when they were even more sure that they were absolutely nowhere.

And now look at them. A hit. Sixty nine percent approval rating after the speech. Oh sure, they were internal numbers, but USA Today and CNN would bear them out, or at the very least, they wouldn't be far wrong. Considering the amount of trouble they'd been in for the last six months, they'd done a good night's work.

He could hear the noise from the party drifting down the hall. The reception was still going strong, but the real party was going on in Josh's bullpen he knew. There was champagne flowing, and music blaring, and he was quite sure that at some point during the night they'd be treated to "The Jackal." He should be there. He should be celebrating with everyone else. He didn't know why he was sitting here alone.

Except he did, and it had a lot to do with Lisa, and the things that they'd said to one another that night. And the fact that sometimes, he didn't feel like he was doing much with his life.

When Josh had appeared in his office at Gage Whitney that morning over three years ago, he'd been sure of his path in life. He was going to be a partner. He was going to marry Lisa. They were going to have the perfect life; they were going to be happy. Sure, he had doubts every now and again, but who didn't when they were on the verge of major happenings in their life? He got over them, he kept going.

And then Josh had stood on the street and looked at him and asked him what he was doing.

And he'd realised he didn't have a clue.

He'd once had such big dreams, about the Real Thing, about changing the world, about making it a better place. That was why he'd gone to Law School in the first place, to help others. It hadn't been to protect oil companies from litigation.

He'd had serious doubts then, had gone home that night and checked up on the internet for shipping disasters, the Amoco Cadiz, the Braer, the Exxon Valdez, the Argo Merchant…the list went on and on. And he'd realised then clearly, as if he hadn't known it deep down before, that this deal wasn't the right thing to do.

He'd tried to explain that to them, tried to make them listen, tried to tell them what he was feeling, but they hadn't listened. He'd been shouted down.

He'd remembered how that felt in the past few weeks, with the State of the Union, with the penny thing, with the need for an apology that never came….

At Gage Whitney, Josh had appeared at the conference room window, dripping wet, with a smile on his face. Sam had looked at him, really looked, knowing that he had the worst poker face in the world, and he'd seen the truth there. He'd said "Yeah," ostensibly replying to the people in the room trying to get his attention, but really talking to Josh.

And Josh had simply pointed to his face and nodded slowly.

That had been enough to make Sam walk out of the conference room, out of the life that he knew and into a new one.

He'd thought that Lisa would follow him, that she'd wait. But they'd agreed that it wasn't going to work out between them as long as Sam was doing this, and she'd given him his ring back. And he'd gone out and got hammered with Josh and the next morning, he was hammering out campaign strategy with CJ and Toby and Josh. And he should have been down in the dumps; after all, he'd just lost the woman that he was going to spend the rest of his life with. And yet, he'd never felt more alive.

Josh had saved him from his life in New York, when he was doing things he didn't want to do, arguing for things he didn't believe in. Had given him a reason to leave the room, to leave the doubt and the uncertainty behind.

Who was going to do that now?

"Knock knock."

The two soft words jolted him out of his reverie, and he looked up to see Carol leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed in front of her, her head tilted as she looked at him.

And despite his melancholy thoughts, he felt a smile come to his face on seeing her there. "Hey." He didn't know when he'd picked up his pen, when he'd begun to roll it around his fingers in thought, but he threw it down on the desk now. "Been there long?"

She shrugged, not moving from where she stood. "A couple of minutes. You looked so lost in thought I didn't want to disturb you."

He smiled, a smile without humour. "It wasn't anything important."

She just kept on staring at him, not making any comment on his statement. "You're missing one hell of a party," she told him. "CJ and Toby are dancing."

"I'll be there in a minute."

She sighed, straightening up and closing the door, leaning back against it, both hands behind her back. "How did the thing with Lisa go?"

Sam blinked. Carol's voice was neutral, or what would have passed for neutral from anyone else. But he could hear the uncertainty in there that she was trying to hide, the slight hint of jealousy that she was just about managing to keep back. "Fine. It went fine," he told her. "She's going to give the notes to someone else though."

Carol frowned. "She is? Why?"

"She felt that neither one of us were comfortable with it." The statement was out before he thought, and when he saw his words register on her face, he could have cheerfully bitten off his tongue. He had been surprised when CJ approached him with the idea of Lisa doing a piece on him, and in the back of his mind, he had wondered how Carol would react to it. He'd gone to CJ later on and asked her if Carol knew anything about it, and was told that she'd mentioned it to her. He'd asked how she'd reacted to it, and CJ's mouth had set in a firm line and she'd fixed Sam with a look, and all she'd said was, "Talk to her."

He'd taken CJ's advice, not bringing it up in the White House, instead waiting until they got home that night. He'd gone to her place on that occasion; she'd left earlier, he having been waylaid by some point about the speech. When he'd arrived, she'd been pottering about in the kitchen, muttering something about marshmallows and hot chocolate. He'd been half-afraid to mention it to her, but he knew that he had to, and had bitten the bullet when they were curled up on her couch together.

"So, CJ talked to me today about Vanity Fair wanting to profile me."

He hadn't missed the way she'd swallowed hard, affecting nonchalance as she took a sip of her drink. "Yeah. She told me."

"And what do you think?"

She'd grinned too brightly at him. "It'll be an interesting conversation piece at the hairdressers," she'd told him, and he'd known then that she wasn't happy.

"If you don't want me to…" he'd begun, but she'd cut him off with a shake of her head.

"No, Sam, I'm just being…" She'd looked to the ceiling, shaking her head, her voice trailing off.

"I'm sure that they'd send someone else to cover the article if we asked them…" he'd tried again, but another shake of the head had greeted that.

"CJ already tried. But Lisa wants to do the profile. They insisted."

He'd reached over then, taking her hand in his. "You do know that Lisa and I were over a long time ago, don't you?"

"I know." She'd looked down with a sad little smile.

"Carol." He'd chuckled lightly as he said her name, reaching out with his other hand and lifting her chin. "Believe me...you have nothing to worry about."

And she'd smiled at him, but the smile hadn't quite reached her eyes, and when he'd held her that night, he'd felt the tension in her body, but knew that there was nothing that he could say that would make it better. So he'd done his best to be attentive to her that week, trying to reassure her by his actions if not his words.

At the time, he hadn't been too sure how he succeeded, and as he looked up at her now tonight, he had the feeling that he'd failed utterly, so he forced a smile to his face, trying to conjure up some words that would ease her mind. "We've both moved on, you know? And we're looking at each other, and we see people that we used to know, but they're strangers…totally different. And it's very odd."

She frowned at him, still not having moved from the door. "So… you're not going to see her anymore?"

"Carol…" Her name was a sigh from his lips. "There's only one woman I want to see right now."

She looked down at the floor for a minute, before looking up at him, her face breaking out in a wide grin as she did. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know why I'm acting like this…"

"You're jealous," he told her, staring up at her as she began to cross the floor towards him.

Any other time, she would have denied that. Now she just shook her head. "Maybe a little," she allowed. She came around his desk so that she was standing beside him, leaning back on the desk, her hands braced behind her, sleeves pulled down all the way over them.

"There's no need you know," he told her softly. "It would never have worked between me and Lisa."

"How do you know?" Her voice was just as soft. "You thought it would once. You must've been like us once." He could hear the doubt in her voice, the uncertainty just below the surface, and he shook his head.

"Maybe we were. But it wouldn't have lasted. Lisa's not like you. You're…" He shook his head, chuckling slightly. "You're very different."

She tilted her head, looking down at him. "Different how?"

This time, a genuine smile and chuckle accompanied his words. "Well, for one thing, Josh likes you."

She laughed at that too. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." His mind drifted back to a conversation he'd had with Josh earlier that night. Lisa had finally let him off the leash, gone to powder her nose or something, and Josh had taken the chance to come over to the table, probably not eager to be called a pompous jackass again.

"So," Josh had begun. "How's it going tonight?"

"Fine. It's fine," Sam had told him. But he'd heard the lack of conviction in his own voice, and knew that it wouldn't fool Josh.

"That good huh?"

"How did it feel working with Mandy?" Sam had fixed his friend with a glare, and Josh, tilting his head and remembering, had made his "ah" face.

"How does Carol feel about this?" had been his next question, and Sam had only been able to shake his head.

"She's pretty pissed. And I can't say I'd blame her. I wouldn’t be thrilled if an ex-fiancé of hers turned up either."

Josh had looked worried for the first time at his words. "But there's no hope of you and Lisa ever…is there?"

"No. It's over." Sam's voice had been firm, if a little pensive.

"Sam don't do this." A cautionary note had crept into Josh's voice, with more than a hint of alarm. "Don't get all nostalgic…"

"It was good once," Sam had begun, but Josh cut him off.

"No Sam, it wasn't. Not like it is with you and Carol anyway."

Sam had taken a large gulp of his drink before he spoke. "How would you know Josh? You never liked Lisa."

"No, I didn't," Josh had admitted, surprising Sam somewhat. All the years they'd worked together in the White House, all through the campaign, all the time that he and Lisa had been together, he'd known that Lisa and Josh didn't get on. Lisa had told him so on several occasions, while Josh had never said anything, just got that look on his face that he normally got when discussing hated Republicans. And of course, the tension had always been there, every time they were in the room together. But Josh had never come out and said anything like that before. "And you know why? Because you were always trying to be someone that you weren't when you were with her. She had you turning in circles, trying to please her, always compromising on her terms, never on yours. You were never relaxed with her Sam. Not like you are with Carol. You two are good together. You work."

"We do?"

"You don't need me to tell you that Sam." Josh had stood up, and following his gaze, Sam could see Lisa approaching. "It's written all over your face. Every time you look at her."

And with that, he'd left, leaving Sam to his thoughts.

Looking up at Carol now, he remembered his conversation in here with Lisa. And he realised just how right Josh had been. "Yeah," he said again now. "He thinks we're good together."

"He does?" Carol was eyeing him with a sceptical look, obviously unsure of whether or not to believe him.

"Yeah. And so do I." Sam reached out a hand and took one of hers, pushing up the sleeve over her wrist, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"That's good then." Carol's smile now was downright devilish, and he found himself wanting to grin broadly at her, and did.

"Oh it is?" He pushed his chair back slightly, and she took the hint, stepping forwards so that she could position herself in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. His left arm went around her waist, his right reaching up to push her hair back behind her ear, before sliding down to play with the ends.

"Yeah. Because I agree with him."

"Interesting…" Their voices had been getting softer and softer, their faces getting closer and closer to one another, and with that word, Sam ran out of patience and met her lips with his. In the back of their minds, both were all too aware of their surroundings, knew how many people were out there who could walk in at any time. So for that reason, it was a short kiss, gentle, almost tentative. When they pulled away from each other, she rested her forehead against his, and smiled at him.

Her hand reached up to his cheek, touching it lightly, letting it linger there. "You look happier," she told him, and it was only then that he realised that he felt happier. And he had a feeling he knew why that was.

"How did we do tonight?" he asked her.

She blinked, and he knew that he'd surprised her with his apparent change of subject. "You heard Joey's numbers," she told him, a furrow appearing on her brow. "We did well."

He shook his head. "I don't want to know about Joey's numbers…I want to know how you think we did."

Her hand moved slightly on his cheek. "We did well," she told him, leaning in to kiss him quickly. "You did well…it was incredible writing Sam."

Somehow, those few words from her did more to soothe Sam's disquiet than anything Lisa could have said to him, or even what CJ had said to him earlier on in her office. Still, he found himself sighing. "I just wish…"

She laid a finger on his lips, shaking her head. "Sam…remember what I said to you about not being able to change the way the world works?" He nodded. "You did good tonight Sam. We've gone up on every question, and sixty nine per cent of Americans think that the President is a strong leader. If we're to stand any chance at all in November, that speech has just done us more for us than the last six months of spinning, and that's because of you. You did good. So don't beat yourself up over what you couldn't do. After all…" A grin suddenly lit up her face. "We have to leave something for next year, right?"

Sam laughed at that, wrapping both arms tightly around her waist now, letting his head fall against her shoulder. He could feel her fingers toying with the hairs at the nape of his neck, and a shiver ran down his spine. "Thank you." His words were muffled against her jacket, but he knew she'd heard him when her hand stilled slightly before moving again.

"You know," she told him, her voice teasing. "My boss gave me the rest of the night off…" She pulled back so that she could look down at him, and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"That's not all she offered to give you…." he couldn't help reminding her, and she laughed out loud, slapping his shoulder none too lightly, especially when he added, "I told her that I'd just sit in the corner and watch…" When the second slap came, he was quick enough to dodge it, and she shook her head.

"I hope she told you that we weren't going to indulge in one of your fantasies just to cheer you up…" Her words trailed off at the end, distracted, he supposed, by the kisses that he was planting down her neck.

"Believe me," he told her, pausing every so often between words to continue kissing her. "When it comes to my fantasies, CJ's never a part of them."

"Is that so?" she asked, her hands clutching his shoulders tightly.

"Yeah…did you lock the door?"

"No." Her whispered word was enough to stop his path down her neck, and when he looked up at her, her eyes were closed, her face a picture of rueful frustration.

He kissed her lips quickly. "Why don't we head home?" he suggested.

"I thought you'd never ask," she smiled. She stood up, waiting at the side of his desk for him. He was standing in front of his computer, ready to shut it off when a thought occurred to him. "What? What's wrong?"

He shook his head to clear the thought. "Nothing. Just…I deleted the thing about cancer. Earlier on." He shrugged. "Maybe I'll try it again tomorrow."

"You could. Or you can take my copy." His head whipped up to look at her, and she looked down. "I liked it...and you left some of your old drafts at my place one night; you asked me to throw them out… I kept one."

He was shaking his head in amazement, and she still wasn't looking at him. "You really are something," he told her softly, going to her, resting his hands on her hips.

"Funny." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "So's my boyfriend."

"Oh?" Their lips met again, and this time, the kiss was neither gentle nor tentative, and when they pulled away, they were both breathing hard. Sam was the first to speak. "Let's go home," he whispered.

She just nodded and took his hand, leading him out of the office, back to the party.  



End file.
